


Tension Relief

by ditzymax



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Fluff, Groping, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26692399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ditzymax/pseuds/ditzymax
Summary: Your sweet boyfriend helps you relax and unwind after a rough day.
Relationships: Choi San/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Tension Relief

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write something quick and self-indulgent that maybe others would enjoy too, so I hope you do!

Technically he has good timing, but as you set down your things and kick off your shoes, you aren't sure if you're really in the mood to accept his call. Not after the day you’ve had.

But it’s San, and the relationship is still new, so you answer anyway.

“Hey.”

He immediately senses the heaviness in your tone as though you've been dating for years rather than a few months. Later you’ll realize it was simply the one-word answer that tipped him off.

“Uh oh, what's wrong?”

Normally you don’t mind how observant he is - in fact, that’s one of the first things you came to admire about him - but right now you’d rather pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about.

“Hm? Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine!” you say, increasing the pep in your tone then promptly changing the subject. “I just got home. How was your day?”

“It was alright,” he answers pleasantly. “I was just calling to see how _your_ day was. You didn’t answer my last text so I thought you might’ve had a rough one towards the end.”

You ignore his correct suspicion for the time being to quickly check your messages. There it is, the missed text from several hours ago asking if the two of you could meet up for dinner tonight.

“Shit, I’m just now seeing it. You're right, work was rough and I was just crazy busy all day actually, I’m sorry.”

“No worries. Does dinner sound alright though? We can go anywhere you want.” When you make a noise somewhere between a ponderous hum and a non-committal grunt, San laughs knowingly. “Okay, that’s fine.”

His quick, easy acceptance of your hesitation doesn’t make you feel better. If anything, it only pulls uncomfortably at something in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh again. “I just don’t really feel up to going out tonight. I’m really tired, my neck is killing me. I kind of just want to stand under a hot shower for like half an hour then pass out in bed by eight.”

“Ah, poor thing,” San tuts. “Can I at least _bring_ you dinner? If I promise not to overstay my welcome? I’d still love to see you tonight, even for just a little while.”

His offer is sweet, but you don’t exactly like the way he’s pressing to see you tonight. Even when worded as questions, even with his assurance that he wouldn’t stay too long, it comes off as clingy or needy to you.

 _This relationship isn’t going to work_.

The thought crosses your mind too quickly for you to stop it, and you physically wince the moment it settles. You’ve worried several times over the past few months that you might just be wasting your time getting into a relationship with a younger man, or that San won’t be interested in relationship with an older woman after a while.

But to be fair, he has been nothing but respectful and understanding and kind to you thus far. Is a well-intentioned offer really something to refuse or worth having an argument about?

You blame your sour thoughts on your terrible day and decide you probably would feel a little better if you let him dote on you with a simple meal and some company, so instead of turning him down, you accept his offer on the condition that he bring enough food for himself as well.

* * *

  
  
San arrives at your door with two bags of food and a smile. Your stomach stirs at the promise of the meal, yet it’s the way the warmth of his happiness covers every inch of his handsome face and embeds itself into those endearing dimples that makes you realize you really are glad to see him.

“Hey you. Thanks again for bringing dinner, you really didn’t have to.”

“Hey you,” he echoes, stepping inside when you allow him by. “It’s my pleasure, really. Thanks for letting me come over. I hope you don’t mind, I brought dessert too. Nothing special, just some ice cream. If we don’t eat it tonight you can just keep it and save it for another time.”

You thank him again for the thoughtful gesture, and he wastes no time helping you put dessert into the freezer before dispensing the rest of the food onto plates.

By the time the two of you settle across the table from each other with the smell of food making your mouth water and your boyfriend’s comforting, calming presence, you feel entirely silly for your negative thoughts earlier.

“This is really great, babe,” you admit contentedly.

San beams. “Well dig in.”

So you begin eating. You expect him to ask for the details of your supposedly stressful day, but he doesn’t bring it up. Instead, he talks a little about his own day between peaceful stretches of silence and chewing. You learn a few new tidbits of information about him as he talks - the way he likes his coffee, the time of day he prefers to shower, the time it takes for him to commute to and from work. Mundane things like that are always fascinating at the start of a relationship.

Partway through the conversation, the ache in your neck reminds you of its presence with a twinging vengeance you fail to hide and San notices your discomfort.

He lumps his mouthful of food into one of his cheeks and asks, “What’d you do to your neck?”

“I don’t even know,” you groan. “It’s been, like, a week now? I don’t know if I slept on it wrong and just _keep_ sleeping on it wrong? I haven’t been able to get comfortable in bed at all.”

“Poor thing,” he tsks again. “You’re probably eager for that shower. I’m just about done here, I can go ahead and show myself out.”

“No, stay,” you blurt. “I mean, I do really want to shower, but maybe we can watch a movie or a show or something when I get out, if you want?”

He looks a little surprised at your suggestion. “Uh, yeah, sure, if you’re sure I won’t be overstaying my welcome? Really, I don’t mind if you want to kick me out now so you can get on with your evening. You don’t-”

You reach over the table to brush your fingertips over his knuckles and he promptly shuts his mouth. “San, let’s stop this little polite dance. I _want_ you to stay, okay?”

He smiles and relaxes. “Alright, cool.”

After the table is cleared, you insist he make himself comfortable and find something for the two of you to watch when you return from the bathroom.

The pressure of the hot water and the encapsulating steam is everything you’d been dreaming of all afternoon. Even though you have company waiting, you decide to take your time and savor the pelting deluge on your aching skin until it turns lukewarm and you drag yourself back out to dry off and put on some comfortable clothes.

San himself certainly looks comfortable perched on your couch when you emerge from your pseudo-sauna. He smiles brightly again when he sees you. “Feeling any better?”

You stretch your neck experimentally. “Eh, a little bit. Not a lot. Mentally I feel _so_ much better though.”

“Well that’s something at least.” He fluffs open the blanket on his lap and beckons, “Come here.”

The scene is too tempting to resist. You cozy up beside him and wrap your arms around his skinny middle as he does the same with you.

San hums quietly and you hear him inhale softly. “You smell good.”

“So do you, actually,” you reply, quietly sniffing his shirt sleeve on his shoulder in return.

“Really? Thanks,” he chuckles. Then he shifts one arm to reach for the remote on the table beside him. “Sci-Fi okay?”

You nod and tilt your head to lie it against his shoulder now. “Sounds good.”

“Perfect.”

Half an hour into the show, your neck twinges in protest over your otherwise comfortable position, and you groan as pull yourself to sit up straight.

San looks over. “You okay?”

Before you can answer him, you bump your fingers into his hand as he beats you to your neck. His fingers are soft and warm, and you can’t help but hum at the gentle pressure he puts on the sore tendons.

“You do feel tight. Tense,” he observes, gazing at your skin in concern while he rubs light little circles into it with his thumb. “I might be able to help a little bit more than the shower did, if you want.”

You quirk a brow. “You do massages?”

He shrugs. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m any good, but I’m willing to try. Think it’s worth a shot?”

“Sure, why not.”

Once you’ve situated yourself so your back is facing him, San places his hand back at the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Right here, isn’t it? Down into your shoulder, too,” he measures with delicate prods of his fingertips.

“Y-yeah,” you mutter, then clear your throat. “Yeah, like all along there.”

With that confirmation, he takes a firmer grasp of your knotted muscles to try and smooth them out. You hiss at the sensation, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

San hums knowingly. “Sorry. Try to relax, but tell me if it hurts too much.”

He takes hold of your opposite shoulder just to steady you as he works the pained one. He rolls his fingers along the column of your neck, squeezing his thumb at the base of your skull with a calculated pressure, then pinches the muscle of your shoulder.

“Feel okay?” he checks when you let out an indecipherable moan.

“It does hurt a bit,” you admit, “but it feels good, too.”

“Good.”

He repeats his motions over and over until he’s built up a nice rhythm of gentle little squeezes up and down your neck and firmer, longer squeezes along your shoulder. You start to feel weightless, boneless, and slump further into his chest at the lulling ministrations.

At one point he sweetly kisses the side of your head without pausing his work, and the thought enters your mind that you actually haven’t kissed him in days.

To remedy that, you start by turning your head towards him. San smiles when he meets your eyes and starts to say something, but you cut him off by pressing against his parted lips. He doesn’t have time to react outside of a surprised grunt before you’re pulling away with a pleased grin.

He grins back wider. “Another,” he requests, puckering his mouth into an inviting pout.

You giggle and comply, this time holding the position longer. He kisses you back with the smallest undulation of his jaw. Greedily, you decide it isn’t enough, so you reach to take the back of his head and part your lips further to ease him into doing the same. A sigh through his nose floats across your cheek the same time the tip of his tongue dips between your lips. You meet it softly, deepening the motion by tilting your head even more so there can be no gap between you.

Quiet sounds of your lips breaking and reconnecting with his fill your ears soothingly. His fingers have stopped massaging you in favor of simply holding you close to him, but you don’t mind. In fact, you’re already thinking of a better place for him to put them right now.

San grunts again when you start to guide his hand down to your chest. “Babe,” he whispers.

He doesn’t elaborate, and you’re not sure what he thinks he’s trying to say, but you don’t comment back. Instead, you cup your hand over his and squeeze so he’ll take the hint. He doesn’t say anything more, just fondles your breast as requested by your body language. You arch into his touch and moan into his mouth, partly for sexy effect to keep him going, but mostly because it truly feels good to have him touching you.

The sound encourages him just as you suspected it might, and he adjusts his hold on your breast to run his thumb across the nipple starting to poke through your thin shirt. He doesn’t mention the lack of a bra, but you can tell he finds the easy access exciting by the way he hums quietly. He switches to your other breast to pay it some equal attention and rolls your stiff nipple between his thumb and forefinger gingerly, then pinches it just to hear you react with a light gasp.

“I’m really glad you let me come over,” he takes the time to mention, as though this makeout and groping session is the highlight of his whole day. The thought makes you want to take things further.

“Me too.” You twist your torso even more, and his hand slips from your breast to your lap. “San? I want you.”

He licks his already wet lips, eyes shimmering as he glances between each of yours. “You mean…? Right now?”

You nod silently, and there is a split second of hesitation on San’s part when you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he swears under his breath and surges forward for another kiss, more feverish with new intent this time.

He returns his hand to your chest without guidance this time, but you still have a small adjustment for him to make, so you bring his hand up through the hem of your shirt. You’re sure your body temperature is rising, but his palm is nearly searing on your bare tit.

He starts to lose focus on kissing while he’s feeling you up, and so do you. Every roll and tweak and squeeze sends a pulse of arousal between your legs. It gets to the point that you start rubbing your thighs together needily, and San - being the kindly observant person he is - takes notice.

“Fuck,” he swears again. His hand smooths down your warm stomach to the band of your leggings. “Can I?”

“Please,” you consent.

He doesn't push his fingers into your pants right away. Rather, he goes to cup your heat over your clothing with a confidence that both surprises and delights you. Then he starts to drag his fingers up and down, back and forth. Your toes occasionally curl and loosen depending on the pressure of his moving fingers and how often he brushes across your swelling clit. You’re barely kissing him at all at this point, but you can still feel him smiling. Or smirking, perhaps.

He pulls his face a few inches away from yours, each of you fluttering your eyes open to regard each other.

“Feel good?” he murmurs.

“Y-yeah." You spread your legs a little wider invitingly, and San uses the extra space to grind the heel of his palm over your clit now. " _Oh fuck_ ," you gasp over the new, rougher sensation.

Unlike with the massage he was giving you, he doesn't build up a steady, diligent rhythm of repetitive motions. He alternates without pattern between the grinding of his palm and the tickling of his fingers along your covered slit. It feels unbelievably good, but you're getting frustrated by the teasing and the barriers separating your burning skin from his.

"San," you whimper vaguely.

“I got you.” With that assurance, San finally dives his hand into your pants, but he still only touches you over your underwear. “Mm, this _does_ feel good, doesn’t it,” he alludes to how damp and sticky you’ve become. He traps your swollen clit between his index and middle fingers and gives it a little vibrating shake, and your thighs automatically clamp together on his hand, which makes him chuckle. “You still seem tense, babe. Relax for me.”

The whine you let out is pitiful even to your own ears. You’re not sure how much more of his teasing you’re willing to stand, but the way he’s talking to you has you putty in his surprisingly capable hands.

He wraps one arm across your stomach while the other flexes beneath the blanket at your crotch. You can't see anything he's doing down there, but you can sure as hell feel it all.

He keeps two fingers focused on your clit now with tight, firm circles and increases his pace. Your soon-to-be-ruined panties not only add to the friction he is creating but also keep his fingers from slipping around too wildly. The concentrated pleasure races through your veins as fast as he can rub at the stiff, sensitive bundle of nerves.

The edge he’s been dragging you toward looms- “ _Right there!_ S-San..." you moan shamelessly. "Please, j-just like that, _shit_ …"

“Relax. Let go,” he encourages. His voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it, which very well could be the boost that rushes you headlong into your body-tingling climax.

You gasp when it hits and clutch his forearm tightly - not to stop him, just to let him know, as if he couldn’t already tell you’re coming from the way you’re stuttering mindless expletives and desperately humping against his hand.

He tries to move his fingers away too soon, but you whine and hold him in place for a little while longer to wring that last bit of ecstasy out. San coos something apologetic you can’t hear through the static in your spiked heartbeat and continues swirling dwindling circles along your bud.

After a few more, he hooks his middle finger through the side of your panties and slowly - gingerly - glides it through your bare folds for the first time, from the bottom of your soaked opening, up between your puffy lips, all the way to your clit still pulsing at the top. You twitch weakly at the onset of sensitivity, but he doesn’t linger or torment you with overstimulation; his finger is gone almost as quickly as it came.

When you finally relax your muscles from channeling the onslaught of your surprisingly strong orgasm and slump against him, San presses a sweet kiss to the first part of you he can reach, which is your sweaty temple.

“You’re amazing, babe. Feeling alright?”

In the midst of catching your breath, you have to laugh at his compliment when _he_ was the one who did all the work.

“Yeah, I feel great. That felt great."

“Glad to hear it.” 

He plants another quick peck on the crown of your head and gives your core one last pet through your panties with a flat, open palm before finally withdrawing from the cramped, humid space.

You turn to look at him again and entreat, “Can I return the favor?”

His answer utterly surprises and confuses you. “No way, babe.”

“Wh- Really?” you question.

“I mean, I love that you’re offering, but I just want to dote on _you_ tonight.”

It’s so funny that he uses the same term that came to your mind earlier today that you have to giggle over it.

“What’s funny?” he asks.

“Nothing, I just…” You shake your head and take in his warm, open face with a smile. “I think I want to keep you around for a while.”

* * *

_**Copyright © 2020 by ditzymax. All rights reserved.** _


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